Fantasy
by musouka
Summary: Sometimes you would do anything to claim the one you love...shounen-ai/yaoi.


An idea that wouldn't leave me alone, that's pretty much what this fic is. It's rated pg-13 for mild limish content and contains Yamajyou/Jyouto moments of a rather…bizarre nature. It's kinda dark, and a bit depressing…but, well just read it for yourself. NO death, though! 

  


**Fantasy**

_Sweet sweet fantasy, baby_   
_When I close my eyes_   
_You came and you take me_   
_On and on and on_   
_Its so deep in my daydreams_   
_But its just a sweet sweet fantasy, baby_

  
  
  


He had lost track of how long it had taken him to set everything up perfectly. Endless moments of time quickly snatched from an ever-pressing schedule. He sighed, not glancing at the suit that lay across his bed, a dark poisonous shadow casting a bitter pall over the rest of his apartment. Inwardly he thanked Koushirou for his list of instructions for manipulating the gift he had given to all of them.   
  
It had been the strangest gift ever given to him, that's for sure. A high-density disk with the words "Happy Holidays" scrawled in Koushirou's characteristic handwriting. He hadn't known what to make of it at first. None of them had. But then Koushirou had shyly explained that what they were holding was their data that had been stored in the Digital World. With Gennai's help, Koushirou explained, he had accessed all of the unique trails they had left in the Digital World and saved them onto a disk. He showed them how to manipulate the information in a system set up quite close to the parameters of the Digital World.   
  
Koushirou ate up the awed expression on the others faces as they watched "themselves" interact with one another from a distance. It was like watching an old photograph of themselves come alive.   
  
His eyes hadn't been focused on himself, however, but a certain clumsy, dark haired youth. Watching as the boy stayed up near the fire on his watch, alone, gazing at the group with an affectionate expression. His throat had constricted painfully at the sight. Memories he had buried clawing their way to the surface…   
  
Memories of a night, so many years ago, in the attic of one particular diner. When he had poured his pain out to that same boy, his face hidden in the darkness, all his feelings of hurt over his parents' divorce, his bitterness. And then, the warm comforting embrace that had followed. With the softly spoken words tickling his ear gently. 

_"I…I know it sounds strange, but…I'm glad you're here with me. I just didn't want to be alone any more…"_

The night he had fallen in love with a boy whose only hint at his inner struggle was those words. A boy who was perfectly content to let others have a shoulder to cry on, but never asked for one himself. A feeling so deep and precious, he hadn't even fully been aware of it until recently. 

Jyou had always been there for him. After he had faced his inner darkness in the Digital World. After his painful break-up with Sora. After his first record had been recorded. Sitting silently through his endless parades of "girls of the week". Having faith in him when all the others didn't. 

Yet, still, the words danced out of his reach. 

Brutally suffocated by one thousand inner doubts. 

_Be content with what you have. _ His inner voice had whispered when the temptation became nearly unbearable._ He's your friend. But if you tell him, you'll lose him forever._

It was a risk he had been unwilling to take. 

And now it was too late. His only hope lay in the past. 

*** 

The waterfall was similar to one they had stumbled across in the Digital World, probably not exact, but close enough. After all, it was taken from his own memories and not pre-existing data. The water was crystal clear, running over the falls with a dull roar and foaming as it hit the deep pool below. The rocks surrounding the area were sun warmed and looked irresistibly inviting. Yamato clutched his key into this private world—his digivice—tightly. 

But it wasn't the rocks or the waterfall he cared about. He inspected his hands briefly; slightly amazed over how he must look; it was like wearing a costume of himself from seven years beforehand. When he had been fifteen. 

Even that couldn't hold a candle to the vision in front of him, though. Jyou, age thirteen—a painful reminder of those confusing times ages ago, clad in nothing but clinging, wet shorts as he sat in the shallow end of the pool. He was watching the waterfall with a peaceful expression on his face, his glasses on a nearby rock to the side of him. 

Yamato cleared his throat, and for some odd reason the sound echoed off the rocks, louder than the waterfall itself. Jyou turned around. 

"Oh! Yamato." He grinned a smile that lit up his face like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "You scared me." 

Yamato wondered what he looked like to the boy. Did he see Yamato as he had been at age twelve, or how he looked currently in the stream of data? Whatever the case, it was only natural that he would recognize Yamato regardless. He was a piece of data, programmed to react a certain way, right? 

"What's wrong?" Jyou asked as Yamato walked slowly towards the water's edge. "You don't look so good…" 

It was such a typical response of Jyou that Yamato felt himself being drawn into a conversation. "I haven't been sleeping too well lately." He replied softly, stopping to strip his shirt off before joining Jyou in the water. 

"Something bothering you?" Jyou finally asked. 

Yamato took his time before answering, trying to find his voice. It was almost as if he could see the face of Jyou's current self superimposed over this facsimile sitting next to him.   
  
_"Yamato. I want you to—"_

Yamato shook his head wildly, garnering a curious look from his companion. He wasn't going to think about that right now. He was just going to relax into the simulation, let it wash away his pain.   
  
"Actually, I've been…I've been meaning to…to talk to you." Yamato replied softly, inwardly cursing as he tripped over the words. Jyou waited silently. Yamato turned to regard Jyou, the wide dark eyes gazing at him, the slight trusting smile touching his lips. It was suddenly too much.   
  
_"Thank you so much, Yamato. You're…you're the best friend I've ever had."_   
  
Yamato leaned over and captured Jyou's lips with his own. Jyou stiffened briefly before leaning into the kiss, grabbing Yamato's arm for support. Yamato let his fingers run lightly over Jyou's pale skin, drawing a shudder from the younger boy. His wet pants were becoming constricting, so he splashed around until he caught Jyou and lifted him on to his lap for closer contact.   
  
His fantasy come true. 

"Jyou…Jyou…Jyou…" He whispered his name, an edge to his voice making it sound like a prayer. 

And suddenly their positions were reversed.   
  
Jyou gazed down on him tenderly, almost as if he understood the hidden meaning of his words. Yamato was caught by his stare, feeling as if he was that confused eleven year-old all over again, and Jyou was offering him that comfort once more. Jyou leaned close to his ear. 

"Shh, shh. It's all right." He whispered as Yamato suppressed a delicious shudder at the sensation. 

"I love you too." The words shattered in the stillness of the air. 

Yamato stiffened at the words, each one of their tiny jagged edges ripping into his soul. In one quick movement he threw the boy off of him, ignoring the way Jyou slumped into the water awkwardly, like a broken doll, and stumbling out of the inviting pool. 

Too inviting. 

Too inviting to lose himself in a fake reality of his own making. Would the real Jyou ever say anything like that? Had this one been programmed to say whatever Yamato wanted to hear the most? Or was there something in the past Yamato had failed to take advantage of? 

Yamato felt sick, self-hatred tearing at his insides until he thought he would throw up as he stumbled through the underbrush. He had been this close to making love—no, having sex—with a puppet; so desperate to grasp at any straw he could before…before… 

_"I don't know what I should do, Yamato…I'm so nervous…do you think…"_   
  
Yamato left his dream world behind in the computer as he materialized into his room. He kicked the body of the computer repeatedly, venting his inner frustration and pain before crumpling to the ground and burying his face in his hands.   
  
A bird with broken wings.   
  
A daydream-turned nightmare, where the closeness he had ached for so long was with a ghost of the past, manipulated into something it wasn't.   
  
***   
  
But Yamato eventually picked himself up, as we all do; clutching the tattered remnants of his pride around him like a shroud. He stared bleary-eyed at the suit gazing up at him from his bed. 

It was later than he thought. 

And he couldn't be late. Jyou was counting on him, right? 

After all, he was the best man. 

It was going to be a beautiful wedding. 

_"Yamato. I want you to be my best man."___

_"Thank you so much, Yamato. You're…you're the best friend I've ever had."___

_"I love her, Yamato."___

_"I love her."_

"It's all right. I love you too, Yamato." 

The barest whisper of a summer breeze from the past. 

Or a fantasy?   


_owari_


End file.
